We Keep This Love in a Photograph
by ifonly-criedthewoodpecker
Summary: Emma and Hook become THOSE people who take way too many pictures, but neither of them can find it in themselves to care.


She does it without him ever knowing, and she likes it better that way.

She likes the way that she's able to capture how he grins at Henry as they talk about something he clearly doesn't understand (even if he wants to _so badly)_. She likes the ones of him where he's so focused on something else that his eyebrows are down as far as they can go, while his mouth is puckered just so. She likes the raw moments where his emotions are more simple to spot, being worn like a badge in the comfort of their home. The ones where his smiles are big and dopey, where he looks young and content. The ones where he's asleep, his face finally slack despite the woes they may have faced during the day. She even likes the ones where he looks somewhat sad, sitting alone in the living room, thinking so endlessly that it seems he may just combust. He's beautiful in all of them, and each picture is a remedy for a different problem she's found herself facing. Missing him being a large portion of those.

She had never been one to take many photos. She'd never had that many memories that she wanted to keep, and she'd never had anyone to take pictures of. Even when she found her family that had only changed slightly. She would snap one here or there if the moment felt right, or at the very least she'd steal some from her parents to keep on her nightstand. She loved her family very much, but between a hectic life and a lingering lack of familiarity with actually _wanting_ to remember something, she felt that the pictures she already had would be enough for a while.

That was, until he died.

After he'd been left in the Underworld, her heart broken as they finally decided it was time to bury him, she'd searched far and wide for pictures of him. She was grieving, and she couldn't latch onto him forever, but for that bit of time, all she'd wanted was to see his smile again.

Searching through her phone had turned up nothing, and she'd cried when she realized she hadn't taken any pictures of him in their several months together. She'd asked Henry if he'd taken any, then her parents, then the dwarves. _Anyone_ who could have possibly taken one measly photo of him. Her efforts had left her with naught but a broken heart, and disappointment at the fact that she'd lost out on another opportunity to befuddle him. She would have _loved_ a picture of that.

It was only a week later that Henry handed her the storybook with a page bookmarked and a smile on his face. She cried she'd been so happy, hugging Henry as tight as she could before taking a moment to just bask in the happiness she once had with him. Sitting for hours just admiring the smile on his face.

Though the illustration did help ease a bit of her longing to hold him again, to see that smile in person, she couldn't help but feel guilty that she'd never thought to take pictures of him. She couldn't help but let out a bitter cry at the fact that she hadn't even introduced him to photos. He must have known that they existed by the time he'd passed, but goodness knows that her sentimental pirate would have loved to have memories at his fingertips when he felt sad or alone. She would have loved to see his blown away face one more time, where he was simply in awe of what could be done with modern technology even if he was as confused as ever.

So now she took pictures.

She took them whenever and wherever she could, reveling in every one. She must have had dozens now, but they were good for long days at the station or the ones where she wondered if she'd ever see his smile again.

One of her favorite pictures was on the day that he'd caught her staring at one with a smile on her face. He was bringing her food from Granny's as he did whenever he knew she'd get too caught up in work to remember to eat, and he'd found her staring at her talking phone.

He came closer to examine what it was that had grabbed her attention so fully, only to find an image of him staring back. His eyes were squinty, his smile large, and he had to wonder how exactly she'd been able to procure the… _photo_ without him noticing.

She'd jolted slightly when his foot squeaked against the smooth floors before turning around and relaxing at the sight of him.

"Killian," she'd sighed in greeting, getting out of her chair to give him a quick peck before stealing the bag of food from his grip.

"What were you up to, love?" he asked as he joined her at the desk, pulling up a chair. He gave a pointed look at her phone, which was still open to the picture of him, as her eyes widened slightly and her lips pinched together in surprise.

"Um…" she started, regaining a bit of confidence as she glanced back at the photo and smiled. "You," she said plainly. "I missed you."

He ducked his head and grinned, filled with joy at the fact that she was so open with her words.

 _I missed you._

 _I love you._

His heart gave a soft jab as he looked back up to see her devouring her grilled cheese sandwich, her cheeks protruding slightly as she chewed a rather large bite.

"It's rather clever, that device," he said as she continued to eat. "You're able to save so many memories." She nodded as he spoke, swallowing and stopping to look at him. "Would you…would you mind teaching me how to um…. _take a photo_?"

Her eyes lit up at the question, as though she'd waited a thousand years for him to ask, before nodding again and asking him to take out his phone.

He did as he was told, and the next few minutes they spent huddled around the small screen as she showed him how to work the _camera_.

It was simpler than he'd expected.

 _Open the device's camera, point it at what you want to save, and click!_

He nodded and thanked her as she returned to her food, smiling softly at him each time he looked up.

He was very thankful to be introduced to the new form of technology, and being given the capability to utilize it. In the Underworld he found that he was rather heart broken over the fact that he'd never thought to have a portrait drawn of her. He'd never forgotten Milah's face even after hundreds of years, because tucked away in his jacket had been her smiling face softly sketched out in charcoal, and he would often look upon it when he began to forget.

However, with an infinite amount of time stretched out before him, a lack of conviction that he'd ever see Emma Swan again ( _she'd move on, even in death she'd exist forever, happy with another_ ), and a complete lack of anything to remember her by save for the scars her parting words had both left and healed, he felt a looming sense of dread that he would soon forget her entirely.

Luckily he'd been able to give her another promise of _forever_ before that had happened.

There were times while she was eating that she would hum ever so slightly, her head bouncing back in forth in time to a song he could barely hear.

He _loved_ when she did that.

Loved the happiness that emanated from her with every bite of the food she so enjoyed.

So, as she finished off her sandwich, lost in thought as she happily hummed, he got out his phone and quickly captured her image, grinning as he looked at the result.

She'd laughed when he showed her why he was smiling and kissed him on the cheek as he explained how he often missed her too. That was when she introduced him to the idea of the selfie, as she kissed him tenderly and quickly snapped a photo.

Before he'd gotten lost in the kiss as he always had, though, he'd sent a questioning glance to the camera with his eyebrow raised and one eye open. She'd giggled when she looked at it, and made sure to send it to him too, the glee on his face when she'd shown him the image making her heart sigh.

They both had liked to say for some time that they were not sentimental people, and there was a time when others would have believed them. Between the two of them, their house had been very devoid of personal effects as each had only contributed one small box to their rather large house. However, as months passed, they each added an abundant amount of pictures to the walls, and eventually each had several memory cards stowed away in their side tables - filled with pictures of each other and their family - it would become quite clear that they were sentimental to a nearly hoarder-like degree.

Neither of them minded, though, when they'd catch the other taking or looking at a picture of the other. Neither of them minded when they'd find another sappy image nailed to another wall, and neither of them minded when someone would call them out on how many pictures they would take in just one day.

Because, at that point, neither of them minded having people to love, and neither of them minded being loved in return. So they'd take as many pictures as they damn well pleased.


End file.
